“Dinna be ower cast doon aboot him, nor gie up houp; he's young an' thochtless, an' he 'ill maybe tak a turn sune.
“A've savit five pund aff ma wages, an' a'm sendin't in a note, for a' didna want the fouk at the post-office tae ken oor affairs.
“Noo, gin ye be writin' Chairlie, will ye slip in a pund juist as a bit reminder o' his sister, an' the ither fower 'ill help tae py the Muirtown debt.
“Dinna think a'm scrimpin' masel or daein' onything mean. Aifter a've spent sax pund a year on claithes and little trokes, and three on ma kirk, a 'll hae aucht ower for the debt.
“When the laist penny's paid o' Chairlie's debt a 'll buy the best black silk in London for ye; an' gin a'm spared tae come hame tae the summer Sacrament, we 'ill gang thegither tae the table.”
“Twa silly weemen,” said Mary to herself, “for he's juist a ne'er-dae-weel... an' yet, gin he cam in noo, a' wud gie him the claithes aff ma back, an' sae wud Lily. For the look in his een an' the soon' o' his voice.”
II.—HOW SHE CAME HOME
When Jamie Soutar dropped into the smithy-one spring evening with an impracticable padlock, and mentioned casually that he was going to London next day, the assembled neighbours lost power of speech.
“Did ye say London, Jamie?” Hillocks was understood to have shown great presence of mind in unparalleled circumstances; “an' are ye in yir senses?”
“As sune as ye recover yir strength, smith,” said Jamie, taking no notice of fatuous questions, “a 'll be obleeged gin ye wud turn the key in this lock. It's a wee dour tae manage; a' hevna used ma bag sin a' gaed tae the saut water saxteen year past.”